The Art Of A Psychopath
by Written Tales
Summary: Jasper holds a secret, and he moves to Seattle after the death of his parents. He attends Seattle University and meets Edward who appears to be an innocent, lovable person. He can't keep Edward off his mind, nor can he stop the thoughts of aggression and the urge to kill. (Warning, all of the above. Don't read if you can't handle this kind of content) (Remade chapter 2!)
1. My Story

_"You fucking cocksucking fag! We raised you better than this!"_

_"Your father couldn't ever be more right you down right disgusting piece of shit!"_

I smiled again at the memory.

My parents were always the praised ones of our small community. Everyone thought we were a go lucky family and that I would go off to a great abroad college with a full scholarship. Everyone loved us and admired our small family. They always came to the small diner my mom had ran and that I was her little helper she always used to brag.

My mother was a great cook, she was always so kind and generous but my father loved her like no other man could love a woman. She was loved and cherished by many. You could foresee the sadness and tragedy when she had gotten into a car accident and she had passed away and I had survived the crash. My father was thankful I had made it but I could see he had other thoughts. He wished I would have died instead of her, and boy don't I wish it.

What made our family so special was that we weren't the ordinary family. My father kidnapped people and my mother butchered them and I served them to the customers. We sacred the art of killing a person. But I knew it was wrong to kill the innocent. I knew deep down it was wrong to kill. But it felt so good.

Everyone enjoyed eating humans, they loved the taste of their own kind. I know what it felt like to eat a fat man. He had plenty of meat to share and gave a nice gluttony taste, and he had a lot of skin to carve. We never let a body go to waste. My parents taught me how to murder people and it made me feel special.

At school, I was a shy kid. I always kept to myself and my things. I was also selfish, very selfish. But I was also unsympathetic and I believed and worshipped the idea of karma. A girl used to pick on me when I started 1st grade, and so followed the others. I taught myself to take revenge instead of crying about the bad crimes other people committed against me. Well that's what my mother always preached to me.

My mom told me to shove that girl down the slide when we saw her at the park. She broke her neck on the side of slide walls when she fell, I made her trip over my foot and no one caught me. My mother was so proud, she had tears in her eyes.

So you see why I took her death so hard. I loved her more then life itself. She taught me everything and I continued murdering people. But never the innocent.

My father got married again to a bitter young woman. She abused me each time she had the chance. She brought her little friends over so they could rape me, over and over again until I almost died from the force.

She insulted me, she called me ugly. My mother used to call me an angel and so did everyone else.

I had light soft blonde curls that puffed in ringlets, I also had my mothers gorgeous unnatural blue eyes, pale skin with red cheeks and freckles along my nose. My stepmother called me a girl.

That bitch one day fucked me up by surprise. She removed all my hair with her bare hands, and it never grew back the same after the whole top of my head was scarred and mutated. I grew my hair longer so it covered up the bruises.

I refused to do anything around that woman, and soon I grew tougher, the girl appearance faded away and I became cold but I was nice to anyone who was kind to me.

But then a gay couple moved to town.

It had me thinking about love. I was never into the thought of love, I was never into girls. Never into boys either until I actually let myself go for once. I let myself feel and observe.

I didn't like to see the depending need women had on their men. I didn't like clinging people who had to open their mouth every time it turned silent. But then I thought about men.

It was then I realized I was gay.

I liked the aggression, muscular, pride that all the men had. It was a turn on. I had told my dad this, not expecting the wife of satan to listen to our loud overbearing conversation.

Either way it could have been her fault I turned out this way. But I didn't care. Probably the only thing I could say I appreciated what she gave to me. For showing me the light.

I fled for college after I got accepted to Seattle University. It was the first acceptance letter I got and I wanted to flee Texas as far as I can get. I wasn't going to stay away near that hellhole.

But I just couldn't leave without a bang.

So as I lay here in content, the whores blood all over body and laying down on the corpses of her followers, my dad was hanging from the ceiling in shackles, screaming for mercy, for anyone to help him.

"Oh shut up old man. You don't remember making this room soundproof you dumb bastard." I rolled my eyes as I held my stepmothers head in my hands.

"You faggot! How could you do this to your own father!"

"Momma would be so proud." I smirked.

"That's why your mommas dead boy, I killed her. You were suppose to die along too!" He sneered. "Pa, I know that." I shook my head in annoyance. "You think I'm stupid?" I threw the wench's head in the fire that burned inside a metal bin.

"You nasty little shit-"

"Do you really want to mock me right now? When I have the upper hand?" I asked.

He glared at me with pure hatred.

"You psychopath! Do whatever the hell you want, but burn the fuck in hell!" He screamed.

I pushed over the bin and walked to the front door of the basement. "If you want to talk about something burning i'll see ya in hell bitch! I hope you like your balls getting roasted!" I hissed.

"Wait! Jasper! Don't do this! Anything but this please don't let me die this way! I was kidding! Set me free! Set me free! Please have mercy!-"

I couldn't hear him anymore as I shut the door to his pathetic sobs.

Oh mom, I really hope I did the right thing.


	2. knives makes my world go wild (remake)

"Fuck." I panted into the ball of stained cloth as I twisted the knife deeper into my stomach.

The pain was overshadowed by the beautiful sounds of muscle be torn apart by a sheer sharp blade. It was bliss.

I watched the blood pour across the blade and onto my sheets.

Kill.

Murder.

Pain.

Suffering.

Revenge.

I laid back on the comforter, pushing the blade to the side. I stared at the ceiling, asking anyone, asking something to tell me what should I do next. Is killing wrong? Am I evil? Am I crazy?

Is this even real?

Am I somewhere dreaming? Sleeping on my bed, and was damned to dream of living out a life that maybe I thought wasn't meant for me?

But why does it feel so right?

I stared at my palm and lifted it to stay above my eyes. The blood drops onto my face, glittering me in my own blood.

I felt curious. Does my blood taste as good as my newly fresh kill?

I brought my finger to my mouth, sucking, rolling my tongue across my finger.

Metallic. Second thing is it does taste dry and it also tasted like the rotten taste of old Clorox. So I dig deeper, biting into my fingernail, splitting the thin useless shell. The sound of cracking, like popcorn, filled the room.

I spat out the bloody remains which landed onto my bare chest.

My finger pulsated as I acted on pure instinct. But I hesitated.

What are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself?

I decided on my answer, it was the right thing to do.

My molars bit the tip of my finger, the tip of the bone crushed underneath the force. The tip of my finger flatted as the skin gave away, blood poured like a fountain onto my tongue. I moaned at the taste.

_"You'd understand if I borrowed your car, right? I mean you obviously didn't give a shit at my pleas. You knew it was my dream to get a motorcycle and drive across the country."_

_My father glared as the whip marks were bleeding down his rugged face._

_His hideous, nauseating, face._

_Honestly I didn't think he could have the pleasure to have anything at the moment. Even his own blood running down his face. It seemed so free, so carefree. It made me quiver._

_"But you had to get one." I pointed my finger in vain. "You had to get a motorcycle and not just any motorcycle but a Yamaha YZF R6 and what? Surprisingly it was the same one I wanted. You know when you came home with that beauty on my birthday I thought 'Wow Jazz is actually going to get something other then shit for his birthday.' " I punched him in the jaw, and felt my finger dislocate. But so did his jaw. _

_He screamed and wiggled in pain._

I smiled at the memory as the blood kept coming, but as I started feeling light headed I thought it was time to leave the games alone, and patch myself up for the night and sleep the girl that was laying my bed.

She was completely naked, her eyes stared at me unblinking. She was foaming from the mouth, and a pair of rusty, blood covered machetes were forced up her pussy and I expertly dissected her insides. After awhile I had myself some more fun.

And of course she was alive for all our harmless fun.

_I grabbed my fathers face and smiled at him as he still stared horrified at my work of art._

_Who didn't appreciate the soul and meaning behind artwork?_

_I think it means the end of another evil soul on earth. How the demented and pain-filled artist got his revenge. I just needed a name._

_The beheading of the whore? The bitches demise?_

_I was just so proud for once in my life._

_"I mean pa, look at this. I always thought she was fucking ugly but you have to admit she does make a great painting on the wall. I created this! I did her a huge fucking favor!" I laughed._

_My stepmother was torn to pieces, her body parts I had stabbed with a long dagger to stick to the wall, her head the center piece of it all. Her blood spelt hell, as it suited her as I used to personally tell her to go to hell myself. I even said I'd personally send her back home._

_"You sick son of a bitch!"_

I felt sharp pain across my face, and caught completely off guard I saw black blood swirl with the pink water that flowed on the floor. I heard also heard a weird sound come from outside the bathroom. Then a laugh and the light switch was turned off.

"Pretty boy."

I took a sharp intake of breath.

The sound of the door being closed shut made me jump. The temperature felt like it had dropped 10 degrees and I could feel a heavy presence all around me, my senses went berserk.

There was the sound of frost and the water of the shower stopped abruptly.

There was complete silence.

"Jasper."

I was on the floor clutching my ears as the sound of crashing and thumping and yelling filled the room. The door opened and banged repeatedly.

It was painful but I strived threw the rough physical forces banging against me.

Then there was silence.

"Had enough yet?"

I smiled as my ears and my mouth started to bleed.

"Bring it on bitch."

I didn't have time to realize that I was grabbed by the hair and was pulled through the glass of the bathroom, the glass shattering completely and was thrown head first into the mirror.

_"You look so beautiful, pretty." I heard a voice from behind and felt cold boney hands land on my shoulders._

_"Such a pretty boy." I glanced up at the mirror for the first time._

_I was broken._

_A horrible, terrifying, laugh echoed through the dark, damp, and mold ridden filled basement, lit up by red candles._

* * *

_I felt it was right to redo the chapter._

_...but was it sick and weird? Did it live up to your exception to a second chapter? _

_Tell me if it did in a review to make sure it wasn't a totally drag. And also tell me what you'd like to see next! _

_And insanity is still being worked on. I'm still trying to figure out the characters problems at the moment._


	3. Frat Boys

I sat at the far corner of the library, where there was complete silence, and the darkness accompanied me.

I was resting my feet against my 3 gigantic text books, and I was skimming over the local newspaper. The three woman that came to my house over four nights ago, still haven't reached the papers, but the one man that I vengefully murdered last night had a medium sized article about him being the best football player in Washington state and also the leader of the frats at Seattle University and how his mother was worried sick and the father, who seemed to not show as much remorse as his wife. You can clearly see through those fake ass tears that the mother was probably relieved to get rid of him. The father made it loud and clear. All he had to say was that he didn't give a shit.

But, Brandon Payne, had some juicy history. He raped a couple women with his frat boys, he's got into a couple car accidents, drunk driving, harassment, murdering little his sister at fifteen and the list goes on. I deeply think I did that family a favor. Either way if I didn't, I would have still thrown his ass of a cliff for crashing his goddamn motorcycle into my truck. Well to be honest, that's wasn't the only reason. He was an asshole to everyone on campus. But after he cursed me out, I followed him to his apartment, where I stepped on the gas and drove him kicking and screaming off a cliff 2 miles away. If the police found him, they'll notice someone did it so I washed my tires clean and purposely drove over some nails and got them replaced with newer, and much better looking ones. But I didn't pay for the damages though, after I drove him off the cliff, somehow his wallet and a roll of cash was on the ground and surprisingly he happened to have a rich family and the idiot had over 5,000 dollars in his stash. I got his credit card, worked my magic and his money was now mine. I also went back to his apartment and I found a couple things that won't go into detail. But how loaded his family was, I'tenth inking probably that's how he came to be leader of the frats, because I'm pretty sure none of the boys chose him of all people to lead them.

Though, I had a fun night, going to the park and people watching, running over some guy, got a couple 20 grand, burst the tires on my car, getting my car good as new. And my dad said I was failure, I got rich in only 2 weeks of being here. He was still dirt poor and still 6 feet under. Hence him being dirt poor and still never made an honest dime in his life. Even though what I did wasn't honest, I happened to find it laying around the guy who hit my truck and I didn't have to sue, I call it, me forcibly getting what he owes me.

"Mind if I sit next to you?"

"Yes."

"Please, you'd be doing me a favor."

"No."

"The frat boys are sitting there, and ever since Brandon Payne gone missing, they've been even more aggressive."

"The frat boys?" I looked over from my newspaper and saw a couple frats pushing around a group of students to move from their spot. It seemed as if the whole time I was there relishing in my grands I didn't notice all the chaos happening right before my eyes.

I threw my newspaper to the side, and without paying attention to the boy beside me, I walked up to the frats.

"Oh look another freshman Tommy." A hazel head nudged who I'm guessing was Tommy.

"He looks pretty buff for a freshman." Tommy sized me up. "I'm Tommy Carlton, new leader of the frat boys." He said with what sounded like those old time gangster movies kind of accent. It made me all excited and warm inside, making my fingers tingle. I wouldn't mind digging and playing around with my fingers under his skin.

"What happened to the old leader?" I asked.

"Ah, the stupid drunk probably got himself killed in some ditch. We didn't like em' anyways." Tommy shrugged.

"Oh really? Because a couple days ago I saw you and ya boys followin' him around like he was shittin' gold." I responded, with an accent of my own.

The rest of guys were arguing with my facts until Tommy lifted a hand, and like the followers they were, they all at once became silent.

I pursed my lips in anger as he laughed in my face, purposely spitting his vile saliva all over..my face.

"Shut up before I knock ya on youer ass freshman." He shoved me slightly, making me take a couple steps backward. The rest of frat boys smirked in confidence, like they actually won something, over me!

I could just die laughing right now. But I'd deal with them all later, one after another. It would raise to much suspicion to get them all at once, and to start fights might get me thrown out the university. They weren't worth it, at least right now, at this very moment. But I could still feel piss-y about it

I wiped my face with my sleeve, turning away angrily from the group of blockheads.

"You stood up to them."

I glared at the scrawny bronzed haired kid, "Why are you talking to me?" I hissed, from the corner of my eye I saw the people around the library staring at me. It made me feel...I can't fucking explain it! But I felt tense. I've never really felt that before.

"The fuck are you all staring at!" I yelled, watching their attention fall back onto whatever the hell they were doing previously.

"Are you okay?" The bronzed hair asked, clutching onto the strap of his brown backpack.

"Whatever!" I walked away from him, back to where I was sitting, and picked up my newspaper.

"My name is Edward." He was relentless.

I feel like tying up his vocal cords, he talked too damned much! I'd tie him to the bed downstairs of my apartment, and I'd carve into him, his organs would be like moist warm worms as I trailed my fingers up and down his large intestine. If I cut into his neck, he'd bleed out to fast, missing out on all the fun. Carving would have to come last, but the most anticipated until the end.

"Edward, that's a stupid name. Edward means 'wealthy guardian', personally you don't look built for anything."

"Well what's your name."

"My name is none of your business."

"Come on wise guy."

"It's not wise guy for one." I sheered sarcastically.

"Jasper, it was a just a little sarcastic comment."

Edward sat right next to me, I felt the dip on the couch.

"How?" I sighed.

"Saw you talking to professor Sanchez, heard her say your name. Which means a gemstone which is red or reddish brown. You don't look like a semiprecious gemstone to me by the way."

"That was a compliment, now I want to leave." I got to move to a different spot.

"Your really ugly is what I mean." Edward smirked.

"Hideous?" I muttered, sitting back down.

"Terrifying."

If I grabbed him by his throat he would shut his mouth right then and there. But he was interesting.

"I'll play your little game Edward. Why is the little weakling pig such a relentless fuck?" I asked, glaring at him.

"Why is the smart ass wolf such a mean depressing dick? Unless he likes dick."

"Oh shut up Cullen."

He gave me a look of surprise and then his face was replaced with realization, "You sneaky bastard, Whitlock"

"I couldn't say it better myself." I rolled my eyes at his comeback.

"Well Whitlock, what are your textbooks doing on the floor, your using it as a footstool?"

"I don't need crap from my criminology classes, I just need the degree." I responded.

"So your learning nothing new? Bull, your gonna fail."

"Don't stuff words down your throat Cullen. Don't start acting brave with me."

"I just hate the frats Whitlock, now they won't be picking on me. They'll be picking on their newest BFF." He nudged me with his elbow.

I took in a good look at Cullen.

He hair was messy as fuck, just like mine. He wore a blue medium sleeved shirt, dark blue jeans, and dusty old hiking boots. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his eyes.

His eyes were two freaking colors.

"One eye is green, and the other is blue?" I stared in awe, I've never witnessed that before in a person.

He blushed and down casted his head. "It's some rare condition. Called, Heterochromia Iridium. I was born with two different colored eyes. Its weird I know." He frowned.

"Actually.. I think its pretty cool." I shrugged, turning back to my newspaper.

"It doesn't bother you?" He asked.

"Why would it bother me?"

"It bothers everyone else."

"I don't know, makes you look special." I muttered.

Edward didn't seem half bad. Too bad I still really want to sink my knife belly deep in his abdomen. But he pretty alright. I just can't deal with the thought of, having friends, having someone always wanting to talk to me.

"You mean it?"

"Honest and true."

"Well then, would you be my friend Whitlock?"

I sighed in frustration.

I'd probably have to think about it.

* * *

**Yay! New updates!**

**I'm so happy that I was able to post something, and I'm so happy its Saturday. I just started high school 4 weeks ago. Freshman. Yep..**

**Anyways I have a question to ask of you guys, just an opinion. **

**Now I don't hate it, but I just wanted to ask if you guys actually like the mixing of characters in stories. Like remember when a section of two characters used to just be their section. Its really hard to wake up and find a genuine Jasper and Edward story anymore. Now its mixed with characters for example, BELLA! No offense if you like Bella but I just liked it the way it used to be. It'll be cool if you tell me your opinion about it, so I don't feel like the odd one out here, not entirely liking the new change fanfiction made.**

**I also made a Facebook page, I'll try to post information there since it is so hard to put stuff on fanfiction during each update which could take for however long. so it'll be cool if you could check it out.**

**And last thing is I notice you guys always think of something else during each chapter, how'd you wish it would turn out. So I was thinking, tell me what you guys think, and I'll do this collection of alternative takes when this story is finished. You know, to make you guys happy.**

**I hoped you guys liked this chapter, I thought it was a good way to introduce Edward. And upcoming problems during the way. It'll make sense later.**

**Cool?**


End file.
